


Enchantment of the Nefarious

by greengreed



Category: Marvel, Marvel (Comics), Spider-Man (Comicverse), Spider-Man - All Media Types
Genre: Angst and Hurt/Comfort, Fluff, Fluff and Angst, Hurt/Comfort, M/M, Nursing, POV First Person, POV Third Person
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-04-02
Updated: 2019-04-02
Packaged: 2019-12-30 21:12:30
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 4,016
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/18322124
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/greengreed/pseuds/greengreed
Summary: When Daily Bugle reporter Ben Urich finds a journal written by Norman Osborn on his desk, he can’t help but read it. Inside is detailed the love affair of Osborn himself and a certain villainous doctor. Ben can’t help but continue to read, and he recruits the help of Peter Parker, a friend of Osborn’s son, to figure out a story the Bugle can publish based on this information. As he falls down this rabbit hole, he learns things about one of the most evil men he had heard of that makes him see him as much more three dimensional. Ben sees a side of both Osborn and Octavius that he had never seen before and it opens his eyes to the plights of supervillain kind.





	1. Day One

Reporter Ben Urich had long been interested in the plights of supervillains masquerading as successful businessmen, especially that of Wilson Fisk and Norman Osborn. He’d written books about both of them, essentially exposing their rottenness. Needless to say, it was intriguing when a thick, leather-bound notebook showed up on his desk at the Daily Bugle, inscribed with the name of the Oscorp founder. There was no note left, and no one had told him they were leaving it there. It was simply there. The enigmatic nature of the journal only intrigued the writer. Could this notebook lead to another story about the life and crimes of Osborn? 

After lighting up a cigarette, he flipped open the diary to the first page. It started off with a little note, explaining to return it to Oscorp if found and included the company phone number. Ignoring the warning, he continued to read on, until he found the first page of writing.

It was indeed authentic. The businessman had famously terrible handwriting and the scrawl on the pages was clearly his. Ben had learned to decipher it and found it easy enough to understand. Leaning into the book, Urich began to read. 

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Day One  
Irony. To simplify the Merriam-Webster definition of it, it’s the gap between expectation and reality. How ironic is it that a man like myself, one so put together, can barely put down his thoughts on paper? You’d expect me to be able to comprehend my own thoughts and appropriately express myself. It’s a chaotic stream. It’s essential to make something of these thoughts, though. Recalling this story is important, for my own history. Ironically, the story itself, starts with irony. 

I can’t say how it all started. I can’t say how I got into the position of bleeding out. Actually, I can’t remember much of what happened before I went unconscious. Apparently, there had been some reports of a man in a goblin costume lying face down on the pavement in a puddle of his own blood. That was myself. Most who walked by my seemingly lifeless corpse assumed I was some senile drunk who’d tripped over his own shoelaces and cracked his head open, except one person who happened to see me

I woke up on the said person’s couch, though at first, I was completely clueless as to where I was. What hit me first was the smell. It was surprisingly pleasing. I could smell herbal tea nearby me, something flowery and bright. There was also the distant smell of sanitary chemicals or something you’d find in a lab. The next sense that came to me was touch. I was somewhere soft and warm. It was pleasant, for some unknown place.

Sound came next. There was the faint sound of classical music, echoing throughout the large room. A man was humming along to it and I could hear his footsteps getting closer. They were heavy and it was clear I was in the presence of a big man. I heard him ring out a rag and then I felt the cool sensation of the cloth on my forehead. When I opened my eyes, I finally saw who I was in the company of. 

“Oh, you’re finally awake.” Spoke the man, who I recognized instantaneously. Those glasses and that ridiculous haircut were so incredibly infamous, anyone would know who they were in the presence of. Not to mention, it’s hard not to recognize the one man in Manhattan who had 4 robotic limbs. Those were hard to look past. 

“Otto?” Was the only word I could get out at the moment, but my mind was buzzing with questions. Why was I here? Where was I? Why was he there? What had happened before I woke up? I assume he’d want to end my life before I was able to fight back. Maybe it was that pride of his. He’d never finish off an enemy who couldn’t fight back. 

“I expected a much more affable greeting from an old friend, especially the one I saved from nearly perishing.” Otto had a way of sounding condescending, even when he didn’t mean to. When you got to know Otto, you realized how much Doctor Octopus slipped through in his everyday encounters. Despite knowing his ways, I couldn’t resist letting out a groan. 

“I’d like to skip greetings for now, though it is good to see you. You haven’t changed a bit, have you? Especially around the waist.” I couldn’t help but tease him just a bit when I spoke. I could tell it got to him, his hands went down to his midriff out of insecurity. I would never admit that I didn’t mind his weight. It was just an easy way to get on his nerves. That proved useful in many situations. If I really would want to get on his nerves, I would insult his intellect. I didn’t think it was wise to call him a moron when he had just, apparently, saved me.  
“In all seriousness, my dear friend, how did I get here with you, of all people?” I finally asked, even though I still couldn’t help but sting him with sarcasm. A sigh slipped from Otto’s lips. Despite his clear annoyance with me, he decided to explain the events leading up to me being here, on his couch, in one of his secret lairs. 

A few hours ago, earlier in the night, Otto had heard on a police radio that there was a man wearing a silly green and purple costume and a mask in a secluded area of Central Park. A few old ladies found the man, who was me, and had called it into the police. Before the police could come pick me up and unmask me, Otto swooped in and took me back to one of his many bases, which happened to be inside a quaint Forest Hills house. How he got me from Manhattan to Queens while I was profusely bleeding is beyond me. I can’t imagine Doctor Octopus riding the subway. Either way, we ended up here. He tended to my wound, which was a large puncture wound on my abdomen. He told me it seemed to have punctured an organ, though he wasn’t sure which one. Either way, it had started to heal because of the goblin serum in my blood causing accelerated healing. 

He took care of the superficial part of the wound by cleaning it up and bandaging it. He cleaned my costume and dressed me in some of his smaller clothes, then let me rest on the couch. I’d been out for a few hours, and it was nearing midnight at this point, if not later than that. For a doctor, he made a very good nurse. My wound was healing well. 

“I assumed your healing factor was nowhere near that of Wolverine or Deadpool. It initially bewildered me.” Otto began to tell me, “I had no idea you possessed that power, though now I know. After tonight, I’ve learned far too much about you for my own comfort. To elaborate, I would urge you to wear something beneath that garish ensemble of yours. Perhaps if someone else is to provide you with emergency care in the future, they may be alarmed by the sight of your—“

“Enough, Otto!” I commanded him. My fingers pinched the bridge of my nose. Did this man ever get less irritating? That rambling was far beyond annoying. “I’d like to get some more rest, if you don’t mind. Or otherwise, I think I should eat.” His head nodded in agreement. 

“Yes, of course. I could easily concoct a meal for you. Though I’m not known for it, I’ve been told I’m a prodigious chef.” Otto’s eyes flicked towards the kitchen as he spoke, then his eyes fell back on me. “Let me check your wound first. It’s been a few hours since I’ve replaced your dressing and it is imperative that I do so.” I allowed him to, of course. I doubted I would have any kind of infection, but I would let my temporary nurse take care of me. Truth be told, there was something I found nice about being taken care of. It reminded me of my Emily in a way.

His hands rolled up the cotton shirt he had dressed me in until my abdomen was exposed. I tried to get a peek at the damage as he began to unwrap me from the gauze and bandages, until he got to the wound. I knew I healed quickly, and I knew I was quite durable. Despite those things, the wound was not pretty. It was large and still unpleasantly bloody. Otto cleaned up the wound for me, then glanced down at his handiwork with a small smile.

“There. Cleaned up for you. Hopefully you will have healed and regained some more strength by tomorrow. I do hope for the best.” As he spoke, his fingers traced the outline of my injury. The feeling of his soft fingertips on my exposed skin made me shiver, just a bit. Something about it made me feel...good. Explaining what went through my chaotic mind in the next few moments is near impossible. 

“I’ll do all I can to assist in your healing process, when I’m not busy with my own projects of course.” He let me know. His science always came first. Nothing had changed. I was distracted by the thought of him being such a habitual man that I didn’t notice his head go down towards my stomach. He planted his lips beside my wound, then pulled back as he began to dress my wound once again. His face was beet red. I could tell he had no idea why he did that. 

“Otto!” I exclaimed, my eyes wide. I didn’t know if I was mad. I was mad at myself for liking it, perhaps. “What was that?!” A low chuckle escaped from Otto’s lips and a little smirk was on his face. Had he been wanting to do something like that for a while? 

“I told you I would assist your healing process in any way I could. I’ve been told kisses are vital in the healing process, according to most toddlers and other juveniles.” His hands were occupied for a while with wrapping my injury, until it was all finished. “I’m going to start your meal now. I hope I have not put you off too much.”

I didn’t say anything. I was still trying to process the events that led up to me arriving here, much less a kiss on the stomach from Otto Octavius. That would take a lot more digesting. As he cleaned up his supplies for dressing my wound, a question struck me that I had to ask. 

“Why did you help me?” I must have sounded infinitely grumpy. I couldn’t understand why a selfish bastard like Otto would resort to helping me. I sure as hell would never have helped him. Otto only responded with a coy smile, before heading towards the kitchen and beginning to cook. Before long, after pondering my own questions for a bit, I drifted off to a dreamless sleep. 

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Ben couldn’t help but scratch his head. Had the infamous Doctor Octopus known the equally infamous Green Goblin? According to the goblin himself, they had. Ben had no idea how long ago this happened either. It didn’t seem like Norman was a fan of recording the date he wrote the entry on. Whenever it was, Ben was hooked. He had to keep reading. Of course, after he did his work for the Bugle. He couldn’t risk Jolly Jonah coming out and yelling at him.

Speak of the devil. Here came Jonah and one of the freelance photographers, a young man named Peter Parker. Jonah was shouting at him, and Ben didn’t expect less. He just didn’t want to incur the wrath of Jameson at the moment. He set Osborn’s notebook aside before turning to his computer screen and typing.


	2. Soup

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> As Ben Urich continues to read into one of Norman Osborn’s journals, he learns more about his relationship with Dr. Otto Octavius. Notably, he learns their relationship might have been a bit more than just a friendship.

All day, Ben was itching to read the next entry of Norman’s diary. The story had him hooked. What could be the connection between the two notorious villains? There had to be something more to this. He had an idea of who would know about Spider-Man and his villains, as well as the Osborn family. That certain someone happened to saunter up to his desk at the perfect moment. Peter Parker had come over, probably to ask for information on someone. 

“Hey Ben,” started Peter. “Do you happen to have any info on any mob enforcers connected to the Kingpin?” Ben paused for a moment. An exchange of information. Yes, that would be valuable for the both of them. He needed information from Peter and Peter needed information from him.

“I happen to know of a few possible suspects. I’ll let you know of a few if you help me out with something.” The reporter proposed between puffs of his cigarette. Peter seemed intrigued, if not, skeptical. The photographer had to think about this for a moment. Ben didn’t know, but Peter was of course, the Amazing and Spectacular Spider-Man. If he gave out too much knowledge, maybe the knowledgeable Urich would see the connect and guess correctly that he was the one and only Spider-Man. A little information couldn’t hurt, could it?

“Sure, Ben. What do you need to know?” Peter finally caved in to the reporter’s request. Ben had succeeded, and immediately started with his questions. This info would be fantastic background information for the journal he was reading. 

“You’re friends with the Osborn kid, right? Have you heard anything about Doctor Octopus when you were around him?” The question shocked Peter to the bone. Was Harry tied up with Doctor Octopus?! Ben only asked because he wanted to know if Norman’s ‘friendship’ with Ock was visible to his son. Was this a well-known thing? Were Norman and Otto openly friendly? More than friendly even? 

“No... I haven’t heard anything about Doc Ock when I’ve been around Harry. Or his dad.” Peter noted, as he knew about Ben’s interest in Norman. “Harry wouldn’t be tied up with Otto Octavius. He’s not that kind of guy. I know you have your suspicions about Norman but Harry would never be wrapped up in a life like that.” Even though Harry had been, Peter had to protect his friend.

“Oh well,” muttered the reporter, “Let me know if you hear anything from him. I’ll fax you a list of known Kingpin enforcers after I finish getting my work done. It was nice talking to you, Pete. I’ll be seeing you around.” Pete retreated from the reporter, thinking deeply about the conversation. He would have to check in on the younger Osborn later. Meanwhile, Ben went back to reading the notebook. He flipped open to the next page, which seemed to be Norman’s accounts of whenever he woke up. The author seemed to title each little section of his ramblings, with no cohesive theme. Ben assumed he was just too crazy to even name his sections properly. Either way, he wanted to see what the madman had to say. 

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~  
Soup.   
I woke up for the second time in Otto’s lair. At this point, I was quite ready to get the hell out of there. I had work, I couldn’t run a company from this place. Especially not in whatever clothes Otto had me swaddled up in. As soon as I adjusted to the light in the room, I began to stand up. I felt as if I hadn’t been injured at all. I’d almost completely healed by that point.

Otto didn’t seem to agree. He must have heard me stand up and ran to where I was. His hand went to my back to support my balance, like I was some sort of feeble old lady who couldn’t move without the help of her walker. I gave him a look of plain annoyance. Did he think I was helpless? If anyone got that impression, then they must have been meeting the Chameleon, as the only time I’d act like a helpless damsel in distress is if I was an imposter or a corpse. 

“I wouldn’t suggest you ambulate too soon, Norman,” Otto croaked with a worried tone, “I only worry that you might deplete the energy your body desperately needs to restore itself.” That worry in his voice made my ears bleed. Why would he have such sympathy and anxiety over my injury? He’s always been so anxious. Such a planner. Too worried about other people to live a little bit. 

“I’m leaving,” I told him, making sure there was nothing confusing about it. “I have things to do and my wound has healed itself. Give me my costume back as well, I can’t go in public wearing this, and I’m sure you know that.” I glanced down at the clothes Otto had put me in. Clearly some older clothes of his, which consisted of a tee with some ridiculous science joke and Star Wars pajama bottoms. Calling him a nerd is not even close to sufficient, he’s beyond help. To his credit, I was comfortable. 

There was a look of defeat on his face. He knew that I was firm on my position. I was an immovable force to him. Otto couldn’t stand up  
to me. There was a shy side of him that hated confrontation, which was odd for a supervillain. I wanted to go and he knew there was no way he could stop me. Apparently though, he found something that stopped me right in my tracks.

“Ah— wait just a moment!” He exclaimed as he had an epiphany. He shook his finger and ran off to the kitchen for a moment. I snorted and waited there for him to come back, which he did moments later. In his hands, there was a bowl of soup. With a raised eyebrow, I glanced into the bowl. There was nothing special about it. He held it out as an offering, and I did not accept. 

Was he offering me food, of all things? I could have a five star chef cook a meal for me in five minutes with the swipe of a card. Why would I want this man, of all people, making me something? In the moment I had that thought, I was struck with some kind of emotion. Not guilt, not compassion, nothing like that. I can’t identify it, to this day. I just had the thought that this man made something for me, with care. He cooked for me, not because I paid him too, but because he genuinely cared for me. I don’t usually care whether or not people care for me, but this was just something I hadn’t ever experienced. It wasn’t like my mother or father cooked for me at all. No one did, we didn’t have to. We had people that did that for us. Knowing full well he didn’t have to cook for me, Otto made me something. 

I took the bowl out of his hands after a few moments of silence. There was still a sense of care and compassion in Otto, I could tell. Half of his mind was a deranged megalomaniac but the other half was still a sweet man who wanted to help the world in the comfort of his own lab. I usually find him overly sentimental and too caring, in fact, but now, I found his actions charming. Cute, even. Something about it was endearing to me. 

“You cooked for me. I’m surprised, after the history we have. I don’t understand why you’re acting like this. If I were you, I’d have killed me by now.” I was trying to work out his thought process. I didn’t think this would irritate him, but it did. 

“That’s because you’re completely deranged, Norman!” His explosion surprised me, though I didn’t flinch. I’d seen worse explosions. “Can’t I perform an altruistic act without you imposing your sociopathic norms on me? It’s not going to make sense to you, you absolute dolt.” His head fell into one of his hands. My gaze didn’t waver. I stared at him. 

“The Otto Octavius I know would have some kind of ulterior motive because my Otto is just as unsound as I am.” I retorted, simply because it needed to be said. Like a pattern, he was annoyed again. 

“Fine! Fine!” He exploded, through his hands (not the metal ones) into the air. “I can’t believe you haven’t yet uncovered what my motive may be. I took you for an astute man, Osborn, though perhaps I was disguided. No matter, the fact is you were right— I’ll admit that— though you still are a dimwit for not seeing through my incredibly thing veil. I suppose I will have to tell you. It’s the only way to get through that skull of yours.”

“I’m always right.” I had to interject. “Now get on with it.” I didn’t appreciate him calling me stupid, but I could take it. I’d rather him hurry up and not make one of his long speeches. It was the nature of supervillains to go on and on with monologues. Hell, I’ve fallen victim to that a few times. The spider could vouch for me.

“Can’t you see the overt truth? Isn’t it unmistakable that this is a desperate attempt by me to rebuild and rekindle a friendship we once shared— though it ended sour? It’s evident that I’ve been harboring romantic feelings for you all these years, is it not? I didn’t think I’d have to confess them, but now I am. And it’s... actually, rather embarrassing.” Otto exclaimed this all with great passion, though his voice tapered off at the end and his eyes, which were once on me, fell down to the floor, to his feet. His face turned a deep shade of scarlet. 

“One of the most important things I’ve learned in life, Otto, is to not be ashamed of who you are. I’m me. And I’m more successful than most people. There is nothing to be ashamed of there,” I began. “You are you. More intelligent than the average man and you have a burning crush on an influential CEO. Own that, doctor. You should never have to apologize for who you are.” I was absolutely skirting around the real issue here. Did I or did I not reciprocate the feelings? I didn’t know. I couldn’t resist the attraction I had to his mind, and the charisma of his surprisingly sweet nature. As I look back, I realized I could have told him then I felt the same way, but I wasn’t yet ready to admit I could love a man the same way I was able to love a woman. 

“I’ll stay, Otto. For perhaps an hour or two longer, and eat the soup with you. We can chat about these last two years. Sound alright, old friend?” I asked him, and set a hand on his shoulder. He looked up, those sunglass covered eyes looking at me. A simple nod is what he responded with, and that started off an enjoyable night of him and I, reconnecting and rekindling that old flame of ours. I knew from the start that the flame would burn brighter than it had before. 

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Ben closed the notebook right there. Conveniently, the section also ended right there. This was something to process. Norman had a whole notebook of what was seemingly his relationship with Otto Octavius. Otto Octavius! Of all people! And a man! It was an undiscovered fact that the Oscorp CEO was gay— or seemingly bisexual, as his manifesto does state he likes women as well. Outing him would be morally wrong, but so was throwing pretty blondes off a bridge, so Ben really didn’t care. He’d make a story of this. He’d make Otto and Norman’s secret fling known to the public. Little did he know, this was exactly what Norman himself wanted.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Ahhhhh another chapter!! I know it’s so soon but yeah!! I’m excited about this story. Thanks for the nice thoughts to those who were interested in the story!! I hope this gains a little more traction because I would love to shed some more light on my favorite ship. Anyway thanks for reading everyone!! It really means a lot to me.

**Author's Note:**

> Hello!! This is my first fic!! Let me know how you like it!! Comments are appreciated because I need a lot of help as I begin to learn how to use this site. Thanks so much for reading, if you did!


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